Jostling for position.

Trying to keep my feet while the boat sways heavily in the waves, as I feel in the wakeboard tow rope. Coming around to pick up my eldest daughter as an interloper got too close causing massive waves which caused her to fall. She’s all good though. All smiles after her epic bail out. Not her fault. This was her first outing on the wakeboard since last October. No harm in losing your feet after a heavy wake takes you out with some humongous waves. She has managed to get up & out of the water rather effortlessly after each stop and start. Good times. I just need to center my weight to weather the bucking boat platform on all these waves, turns, and evasive maneuvers! Ha. I’m getting better at throwing the rope out farther from the boat too. To much more of that bobbing up and down and I might get seasick though.

Welcome to Tuesday everybody.

“When I completed my…

Training back at the academy on Tourus station about thirty years ago this job used to be fun”. She mutters to herself aloud, while reaching for a fresh bulb of black coffee, sat on a little dispenser above her console. The heat from the instant bulb bringing feeling back into her clammy hands. Her remarks echoing off the empty banks of machines surrounding her station in the middle of the long cold room. Gilda, the air traffic controller on shift is hunched over a bank of displays watching a dizzying array of pale green blips jostle across several CRT tv screens all at arm’s length. It’s a slow moving dot matrix puzzle. Leaning away from the console, her feet firmly tucked into the padded stirrups underneath so that she won’t float out of position in the low gravity field she occupies, an audible crack emanates from her hunched spine. With a brief moan of relief Gilda leans back towards her console and the many thousands of cargo vessels she is responsible for keeping track of.

“I can’t believe that when I started I only had to follow three vessels! Three!” She barks in a hoarse laughter. The righteous indignation present in her commanding voice. Looking at the cavernous space around her console with a sweeping glance, like she used to do when it was full of other people. Back when she could catch another’s eye, and they could both enjoy one another’s plight within the Company. “Then the company decided it was too expensive to assign individual ships to a traffic controller as a parcel, they moved over to one controller one entire route.” Gilda loves to talk out loud, because there is nobody to hear her, so she has gotten pretty good at delivering her daily diatribe with gusto. With her best performative gestures she continues. “Now back then, routes might have had only ten or twelve ships flying the same path, just days apart. The work load for us got harder, for sure, but it was manageable” she pouts. Gilda loves to bemoan the state of her job now that much of what she was trained to do has become automated.

Her role was to know where every ship was under her care. That far flung planet in desperate need of parts or it will collapse, yeah they’d ping Gilda, and she’d know where on the route the vessel was within seconds. If they’d taken evasive maneuvers, she’d know and would log it, and all parties would be notified same day. But with the consolidation of traffic controllers, and the expansion of traffic she personally had to watch, that role got pushed onto automation. Now the Company has a separate system that gets pinged, and if the same vessel names comes up time and again, even if it’s for different reasons, as soon as one question about it gets answered the Company system deletes all tickets regarding further questions about said vessel. It’s great for throughout stats, but terrible if you have multiple things you needed to know, or communicate. But that’s Company life, right. Somebody gets a bonus for tickets logged, they just say that all queries were completed. One answer fits all folks!

It’s also the reason why all earth ships have these long ridiculous sounding names, so that no two get mixed up. Pretty hard to get two with the same name when the cargo vessels get called “Clarice with the sheeps” or “Edgar, Allen and Poe” or something truly weird like “The Pauly Shore Wheezing of the Juice“. Absolutely bizarre names. Very distinct monikers that meant when a ship got pinged for its whereabouts, or a status update, the answer that came back, promptly at that, was correct. It virtually eliminated transposed numbers or letters for ship names. Hard to believe but back in the day they used just VIN numbers to identity ships. Who cares if eights, A’s, and zeros or O’s look the same on these CRT tv screens. That was when we tried to be all covert about shipping and shit. Lots of folks died because of that. Like, a lot a lot. Planets sunk into civil wars because they were given information in error about a ship not even in their system. A truly terrible time to be alive. A whole colony gone to war killing themselves over scarce resources, just to have the usual ship show up ten days later and 95% of the colony dead, or dying. It was a mess. I’m sure some one still got their bonuses though, right.

But today with the longer names, that doesn’t happen. Instead we have air traffic controller burn out. We have corporate greed to thank for that Gilda mutters to the vast but empty room. It’s not entirely silent in the cavernous expanse she calls operations. It’s one of six spaces on this far flung station orbiting some random gas giant, about four hundred meters across, and six hundred deep. What used to be filled by three overlapping eight hour shifts worth of people, is now jammed up with server banks, cold blinking lights, squeaky exhaust fans, the trickle from water cooling towers, and row upon row of dials, switches and toggles. None of which Gilda knows how to service, or maintain. Now for shift three, it is just her. She’s paid to watch multiple screens full of slow moving pale green dots. Every few seconds those blips move just a hair. It’s her job to notice if one of those blips should wink out. That means death. Total annihilation of a vessel. Black box with virtually indestructible transponder gone up in flames. Unlikely, but it happens. If an engine gets punctured, or a seal breaks and the living, breathing, volatility of a dead star erupts from out of containment, it’s a sure fire way to eliminate an entire cargo vessel, the occupants, contents and engine contained within.

Now we humans like to think of engines as merely machinery with moving parts that can be switched on and off at will. But with the size and complexity of these cargo vessels traveling billions of miles round trip month after month, they are a little unwieldy. You don’t just shut down an entire ship. Once you light an engine and trap all that energy, it stays on until its ultimate heat death from machine failure, decades or possibly centuries after it was awoken. The rigmarole the Company has to go through in order to create a new vessel these days in non trivial. It’s akin to directing the energy from a dying star into a containment space no larger than a couples transport berth on Tourus station. The action it takes to bring a ship to life is positively cataclysmic. So more often than not Gilda, and the few others left that do her job on alternate shifts have only ever seen ships data wink out of existence. Not once have they ever seen a presumed dead ship turn back on. That is, until just now.

“What the fuck?” Gilda exclaims in shock. Her hands flying across her console. With a few button presses she hits record on the displays, and rolls back the counter for the clock, and loops it to repeat over and over again. A capture of just a few seconds of screen time. Gilda transfers the few moments of display data over to the Company archives for further investigation. An until now unheard of event, right there, bottom left corner of her display, a lone pale green blip, that was once empty space one second, is a new vibrant green dot. Blinking life where there was only emptiness a moment ago.

Inside the vast array of data banks a previously scrubbed name sets off all sorts of alarms. This data gets shunted immediately to a private data center while the previously heavily redacted name “The Dirty Starling” flashes urgently. All hell breaks loose.

GHOST OF THE DIRTY STARLING: REBIRTH.  Part 1

**Stay tuned for more adventures in the interconnected space short stories universe of The Dirty Starling.**

Taking kids to the mines.

It’s playdate Sunday so we opted to hit up the Princess Sodalite mine in Bancroft to get some sun shine, fresh air, and exercise swinging hammers, and moving rocks with our hands, and feet. The kids spent seventy five minutes going ape on everything they could get their hands on. Worked up a good hunger, and a need for a brief rest. We even ran into some other friends with a cottage nearby, which was unexpected, but pleasant. Their year old Boxer Bentley was there too. He is always good for a wrestle!

Busting up quartz and anything else that they could find not nailed down! It’s a great place to go if you want to sprain an ankle on all the loose screed. Fun times! I personally find a patch of ground and then pick through all the bigger rocks to uncover smaller more precious stuff that might have gone unnoticed in-between. Some days it works, and other times it’s all effort with no pay off. Such is life!

My wife’s friend and her husband, and children were there too. They have Bentley the boxer. She was one of our bridesmaids way back when. They looked to be having a good time. It wasn’t too hot, and all their boys could swing hammers, and smash stuff for however long they could stand it. Perfect for Minecraft obsessed kids I think. Here she is picking through some finer shards of rose quartz, or selenite (I don’t recall which).

We have our guest until 5:00 pm today so we started at the mine, and then grabbed lunch, and have driven to the cottage for some water sports, swimming, paddle boarding, and tubing fun. I want them to be active more so than being indoors playing on uncle Andrew’s PS5. Not that Goat Simulator isn’t a riot to watch & play, but they are supposed to be active! Not sedentary.

So not much of a lazy Sunday, but should be a good time anyway. I know my eldest daughter is happy to see her friend during the summer. Take care out there.

What day of the week is it!?!

I’m a little out of it. I have not slept very well as of late, and the side effect of that is my being a bit on the spacey side. Not much, just a bit off. Ha. Hard to tell really. Like operating at 98% instead of one hundred. Not much, but I feel it.

I don’t know whether I need to revisit the mattress, or the air temperature, air quality, or moisture level. Something is off, which is impacting my sleep quality, as well as my sleep quantity. Had night terrors recently too, which ruined one night’s sleep this week via stress response, and lying awake afterwards for quite a while before returning to sleep. The dog has been restless on the bed lately too. I could do without that nonsense, that’s for sure.

I do believe it is Saturday now. The temperature is going to start to climb once again. Yet another prolonged heat wave to muddle through — yay. Not to mention that it hasn’t rained in more than a week, so everything is tinder dry. I pray the fireworks tonight don’t set off a major blaze in the park, or surrounding housing. Fireworks aren’t worth a major community fire that takes out a subdivisions worth of houses.

Making time for my happy boy.

It’s not often you get to discover something that really makes your dog’s day, but figured out it’s boat rides with the family, so now Captain Dopey here gets to tag along on the trips not headed directly to the marina, and he is all smiles, and waggy tail because of it. Happy Friday to you and yours.

Why do I hate to ring the bell for service.

Walked into the grocery store with my daughter yesterday to grab a few odds & ends while we were waiting for her session of flag football to start. And when I approached the deli counter the two employees were engaged in a friendly chat, and the younger one was sending the elderly one a text with some information. I smiled at them both upon approach and nodded politely which they both saw, and we stood quietly beside the digital weight, and ticket printer to ask for the items we wanted. And the bell was right there, within arm’s reach, but so were both employees whom we had indirectly interacted with via smile, and a partial nod. Only for the younger one (whom was working the counter) to wander away. The older woman called out to the younger one three times before the younger one came out. Now I feel as though had I walked to the counter, nodded & smiled and then rang the bell for service, right in their faces, that that would have been a “dick move”, so I did not. I could have I suppose, but I felt the smile & nod was courteous and an acknowledgement that we would like service. Perhaps I am wrong. Now if nobody had been standing out front talking I would ding the bell. No problem there. We were served, and only waited an additional fifteen seconds or possibly more, and that’s not the issue for me. My issue was the bell. It feels icky to ding the bell right in someone’s face. Like hello, I see you, I acknowledge you, I’m walking over to… DING!,  it feels both impatient, and rude to ding the bell when workers are present. I know I would hate to get dinged while present at the counter I worked at. Oblivious employee walking away or not.

But, here we are on Thursday and both of the library programs are done, but the late swimming sessions have begun. So not out of the woods yet. We had people around for a swim, lunch, and a visit yesterday. It was nice, if a bit busy of a day to have three big things going on. All of which were very physical for the kids. I broached the subject of finding more similarly married with children friends for us to golf with, but with the caveat that they must like golf (but not too much), be ok at it (but not too good) and be loosey goosey with the rules enough to keep pace of play moving forward because we are all kind of terrible! That’s my kind of golf buddy. Not a rules stickler. Not a faux PGA tour miser taking every stroke ever so seriously. Those folks can eat my ass. Not my tempo!

So far I think I have found at least three people of similar interest level whom we can golf with as a couple. These are $45.00 courses, so we aren’t flying anywhere, or doing multi day road trips to get to another province to play. Not that Quebec, Nova Scotia, New Brunswick or PEI aren’t lovely, but I don’t golf enough as it is to justify that kind of cash layout, when I have not tried 99.99% of the courses near me. Maybe if I had exhausted all public and semi private courses that would make sense, but I have not, so it doesn’t.

Today is the last of the month so I will need to send out invoices. That’s a good thing. That means work being done on the regular, and in this economy, with this much uncertainty, that’s fantastic for a freelancer like me. Do I wish my book sales had taken off (sure I do) but I wrote those books to fulfill a dream I had, not because I thought for a second that it would get me anywhere but satisfied I accomplished a childhood dream — twice! Boom! Which is why I’m making the effort to play my guitar more often, to get my fingers dirty with clay once more, to paint & draw, and to work on assembling my resin mecha kit too. I’m just a cleaning, purging, artsy fartsy machine as of late. I have parts laid out for a Taekwondo belt display for my eldest daughter. Spent a whole lot of time on the table saw, and belt sander prepping those bits and pieces. I’m in slow work, high creative energy mode. Trying to do everything I have on the go, and not rush out to spend money. Tighten the belt just a notch or two, and work on what I’ve got. I have some painting to do in order to finish my children’s book. I’d love to get that published up on here by the end of October. In all honesty I think I need to redo almost all of my illustrated pages, except for just one or two that I still like, and am happy with. But that’s alright. Self doubt will make you try a little harder, get a little more creative. I hope! Add another tick to my list of childhood dreams made real. Releasing a music album is going to be a tough one. But! He says, I do have audio tracks available here, but it’s just me talking. So kinda sorta, but not really applicable? I’m not proficient enough musically to make my own songs, as of yet. Watch my YouTube channel and you’ll see that very quickly.

My list of childhood dreams also requires me to release a comic book I created myself, and that shit will go hard, if it goes at all. I’ve sold a painting, and a sculpture or two before. It’s just that the scale of the thing is greatly reduced. I call a one off a win, rather than having to make hundreds of thousands, or millions of dollars doing any one thing on the list. The intrinsic value of accomplishment is what means something to me at this stage. Sure I’d love for any one thing to just take off or what have you, but that’s not the driving force of why I need to do them.

Wow look at me getting long in the tooth here today with this lengthy post. Have a great Thursday. Temperatures seem more reasonable. Touch grass! Ha. Ciao Bella.

Watching 3 body problem.

I read all three of the books quite some time ago so I don’t remember a whole lot of the finer points, and so far the first season is just working through the first book. I am liking it from what I have seen. I don’t remember them swearing so much in the book, but I didn’t have kids yet when I read the first one at least, so… Differing priorities, or sensitivities are at play here now. Almost makes me want to go back and reread it to see how faithful to the source material they are, but not quite. Ha.

Today is Wednesday, and I have some work to go do. Ciao Bella!

Half way through Summer Break 2025

Here we are nearing the half way point of this wonderful, if overly hot, summer break of the year 2025. We have gone to Canada’s Wonderland, Vaughan Mills, Bancroft Soda lite mine, the cottage, the beach & surrounding swamp, to sleep overs, birthdays, library programming, summer flag football games, played 18 holes of golf, saw a friend give birth to a beautiful bouncing baby boy as a surrogate, and gone to parties, and even some town events with other friends with similarly aged children. It has been a blast.

With the August long weekend approaching we might venture to drive the kids up to see the Bancroft Rockhound Gemboree one day if we can convince the kids to sit quietly to drive all that way for a day. Bit of a trek at the worst of times, let alone when they are excited about seeing fancy gem stones, and attempting to do some shopping for said gem stones, or gem stone adjacent fancy rocks/fossils. It can be a bit much! Ha.

But here we are on a fine Tuesday morning. The dog and I have the house to ourselves for a bit while the kids are at swimming lessons. I pruned a few shrubs so that my office has a view of something other than a wall of leaves for a change. Behind those leaves is a hedge, but I now get sun light into my workspace. Score! I have put some feelers out to see how my late summer, and fall look to be shaking out work wise, and it’s looking a bit quiet. Now things might change if the tariff situation settles, but it’ll take 6 months to a year for that to realign itself, not going to be an overnight thing, unfortunately.

So if I’m going to have time on my hands, then I’m going to continue my mini purge sessions, and really whip the house into shape. Besides the girls wardrobes & closets I don’t want to attack their things, so I will focus my attention on the shared spaces, broken toys, hidden junk piles, cupboards, closets, shoe & coat piles, under counter storage spaces, and open/disintegrating/dissolving/dried out crafting supplies. It will be enough to keep me occupied for at least a week. Plus, I could start whisking those paint cans out from under the basement stairs, and taking them to the house hold hazardous waste dump in allotments. I don’t think I could get all of it gone in one trip. I believe they have rules about how much can go from a single household at one time. I will need to look into it, because that information pertains to our predicament.

My wife was kind enough to go through and sort much of her Girl Guide crafting mess back into her clear storage bins. We had many, many Walmart bags filled with individual craft projects that had gone out, and returned. But not sorted back into the appropriate container. Plus more beads than you could shake a stick at. So many, just so, so many of them. Different colours, shapes, sizes, mediums, and themes. It borders on insane. But now it is organized, and we have cleared some shelf space by tidying it up. I got some crap out of the laundry room, so we have shelf space if we want anything put in long term storage.

As promised, when I took the broken tech away to the dump I did not fish out my wife’s old (and not broken) home theater apparatus, even though it has sat disassembled since 2005. We still have all the speakers, receiver, subwoofer, and cables needed to run the CD/DVD player. I did however toss all of the busted Wii stuff she picked up several years ago that not once got played, except when I personally had to go through and test each item (much of which did not work). Plus I got rid of my old Xbox 360 console, but I kept the hard drive from the top, as it was removable. Nice! The karaoke machine that smelled of burning electronics when turned on for more than 30 seconds went, my old printer, a dehumidifier, an electronic drum set of pads, an old PC tower, an old monitor, an old clock radio. It wasn’t a tonne of stuff, but it was enough. In the fall I will likely scour my books once again and send some more off to donation. I will go through my t-shirts and either transfer them to the cottage so I never, ever have to take clothes up there again, or they can go to the textile donation bins in town to be recycled into who knows what.

The older I get the less keen I am on just holding on the “stuff/things” that have no value to my day to day life. I found some twenty year old markers from my college days. All dried up. And I finally tossed those. They had sentimental value, but I can’t just keep holding onto 50 dried up markers because they remind me of a good time I had at Sheridan College back in 2000/2001. I mean — come on. Gotta live what you preach! I spent a considerable amount of time cleaning brushes a few years ago, so I can keep my paint brushes, because I was able to salvage them, and rehabilitate them after two decades of abuse! Dried paints, and markers, and pastelle boxes can all go in the trash. I do have two bottles of film developer from that same time (unopened of course) that I just can’t bear to throw out. Next to my first ever point & shoot film camera. It’s crazily terrible against even my phone’s camera, but I can’t think of throwing it away. I never use it, but I see it inside my art box every time I go in my office. Hell I still have my first ever digital camera from 2006, and as far as I know it still works. Also has terrible picture quality compared to my phone. I should toss both, plus the crappy mini tripod I have, but not yet. Not yet. I know my kids would immediately bin them if I passed in 5 years time, so I know deep down all three items are pretty much junk. I wouldn’t keep them if I was offered them from a friend passing. So yeah, in September I will likely purge those items too. I had a good time wandering Guelph with that digital camera. I bought the point and shoot film camera when I was in high school, so it might be nearing thirty years of age sooner rather than later. Holy cow! That’s messed up. If it were a Pentax or a Canon with removable lenses, and flash bulbs and stuff it would be worth keeping, and preserving. But the point & shoots were self contained, and would take no upgrades. So… Yeah.

I recently took some time to sit back down and try my hand a sculpting again. I found a cool picture of a goblin king that I was going to draw inspiration from. Didn’t get too far into it. It reminded me that I need to get a move on my sculpted & painted ceramic Markham Fair 2025 entry. So I might shelve the clay bust once more, in favour of doing something new in ceramic. We will have to see how that shakes out.

I’ve rambled enough for today. Ciao Bella!

Alpenfury: The chronicles in patience, and potential heat exhaustion.

Three hours of waiting in the 30°C heat with my eldest daughter and we were able to get our first ever ride of AlpenFury under our belts. I enjoyed it a great deal. It is very fast, and turbulent! Short ride duration for how far you travel, and how long the track is throughout the park. Lots of fun. I will not wait 3 hours to ride any ride ever again though. That’s too much, especially in this heat. We saw two individuals succumb to the heat, and faint. The first woman laid there on the ground for a good long while before the EMS team were able to help her, but the second lady (from a separate group & line row) fainted right afterwards, and EMS was still here, and helped her within seconds. Very exciting! Very hot. Very exhausted now.

Dinner & a movie.

For the first time in quite a while both kids were being watched/entertained outside of the house for a few hours, so we were able to order ourselves some Mexican inspired meals, chips with queso, and sit down together to watch Happy Gillmore 2. Which surprisingly enough was not half bad. A nearly 30 year gap between sequels rarely bodes well, but this was acceptable. Made me laugh. We recognized both of his daughters, and his wife from amongst the cast. No problems there. They were fine. It was funny enough, even charming in places. My wife liked all the sports cameos, and Eminem & Bad Bunny too.

I was more impressed that we had three or four hours together to just be alone, eat in peace, and watch a movie nearly all the way through. I say nearly because we waited almost an hour to get our food, so we started the movie later than we’d hoped, and had to pause it to pick up one of our children from her play date. The other stayed behind for a few hours more. Perks of being the older child I suppose.

Today is Sunday. It rained a good amount all last night, and the ground is still wet now, but it didn’t do much for breaking the heat, nor the humidity. While it cooled off with the rain present, I don’t think it ever got down below 21°C, so the interior of the house stayed 25.5°C all evening long. Boo! I need it to come down to 15-16°C so that the house drops to twenty or below. That’s when the amazing sleeping conditions hit! Snoozefest city when we can get the interior that low without the AC, or Humidex making everything feel oddly damp. Yuck.

Plus at five am the dog climbed out of bed, walked around to my side, then jumped back up to sit directly on my head. Not cool. I thought he needed to go out to use the toilet. That’s his “I have an emergency” tactic to wake me up before he messes all over my bedroom floor — again. Puppies, am I right? But no. He just wanted upstairs to sleep on my wife’s bed with our youngest. Must have heard a bathroom trip and figured he was good to start his day early. I was not impressed.

Then I tried to go back to sleep but thought of a fun new story for my old sci-fi universe. Played it out from start to finish in my head. But I don’t feel like writing it out because it was going to get long in the tooth. Might just keep it shelved as notes on a card for a later write up & release. Hard to say. Take it easy today, it is Sunday after all. Ciao Bella!